by P. J. Belden
“Bring it on you little puke!”
Oh the old taunt from when we were kids. Elijah was four years older than I was, so we got into a ton of scuffles that my dad usually had us solve by fighting it out. Of course, because my dad wanted us to fight we didn’t.
“We aren’t kids anymore. I am not that little boy anymore.”
“No, but you are still just as annoying.”
We circled each other, both of us hopping from one foot to the other waiting for the other to make the first move. The thing about my brother was he had no patience at all. It was one of the things that made him a good lawyer. He went into a case having an answer for any rebuttal that might occur.
Eli swung and I dodged retaliating with a right jab to his face. He swung again connecting with my jaw and I connected with his stomach. We danced around each other for a few moments before he came at me again, I shift dodging his jab and landed an uppercut hard and dead on causing him to stumble backwards. We continued to punch each other. I had busted his lip open and caused a gash below his eye and his right side of his face was already swelling. I wasn’t sure what he had done to me, but he was asking for a death wish if we kept going. We were both covered in sweat. It was dripping down into my eyes burning them, but I’d be damned if I was stopping. I swear though if Eli didn’t he was going to regret it.
I swept my foot out knocking Eli’s feet right out from underneath him. He fell with a thud to the mat. Walking over to him, I looked him in the eyes.
“Stop. It’s enough old man! You’re going to get hurt.”
Suddenly his fist connected with my groin. I stumbled backwards, holding myself.
“You fucking asshole!” I groaned.
“Don’t call me an old man!”
I straightened up when I saw him lift himself off the mat. We went at it for a while longer. I knocked him down several more times. Each time he got up slower than the last. A sudden vision of Alex popped into my head. I couldn’t control. There was no warning. When Eli came at me, I went back with far too much force than I needed to use with my brother. He fell back to the mat and didn’t move. The sight of my brother lying there not moving stop the rage cold. I scrambled to my brother’s side.
“Shit! Eli… man… I’m so sorry.”
Connor pushed me away and the medic team—that was always on standby when a fight practice or not was taking place—rushed in. A few minutes passed and I stood there wanting to know something. Connor turned around livid. The vein in his head was popping out.
“Get your shit and go home! If you can’t get it under control… I’m done! Look what you just fucking did your brother! GET OUT!”
He shoved me out of the ring. I didn’t go to the locker room to change. Grabbing my shit I stormed out of the gym and flew back to my house. Once I got inside, I stormed down to my private gym and began to beat the shit out of the punching bag.
“I told him to stop… I told him to back off… Fucking idiot wouldn’t listen… Shit…”
Collapsing against the wall, I slid down and rested my arms on my knees and my head hung down. My heavy breathing was the only sound that could be heard in the room. First one, then another tear fell and landed on the floor.
“What the hell have I done?”
“Exactly what I asked for.”
My head flew up and Eli stood leaning against the doorway. He didn’t smile. He didn’t smirk. He just looked at me with sad eyes. My head fell back against the wall and I broke down.
“Eli, she was hurt for so long and so bad because of me.”
“Carson, if you truly believe that you have control over someone else’s actions, then you are dumber than I thought.”
“I had a gambling issue before. He was my bookie. When I got into trouble and dad almost found out, I stopped. It was hard, but I did and straightened out. It helped fighting and the better I got, the better I felt and the less I felt the urge to gamble. Then Alex approached me about throwing one of my important fights. He told me I wouldn’t like the consequences for letting him down and I did anyway and now…”
“It isn’t your fault Curry.”
My eyes flew open and there stood Kayla. She walked over and knelt down next to me and hugged me. I cried in her arms. I was no baby or sissy boy, but my family was everything to me and my sister was hurt in the process of my shit and it killed me. Kayla held me tighter.
“It wasn’t your fault, then or any of it now. He was the sick bastard that chose to do that. Plus remember he didn’t work alone. You didn’t offer me up as exchange so it has nothing to do with you. Honestly, I would have kicked your ass for going along with him even if I knew this would have happened if you didn’t. It was you who told me, we can’t let him win. Don’t let him win Curry. Please.”
“I’m so sorry, Kay.” I looked up at my brother. “I’m sorry about earlier.”
We all sat there and talked and I got a lot off my chest. Was it going to help with the rage and the guilt I felt… I don’t know, but I do know that I felt better telling them my past secret struggle. I pulled myself up off the floor of my gym and made my way to the showers.
As I stood under the running water, my thoughts turned to the sexy as sin voice from last night. I know damn well I heard her today. If I only knew what she looked like, it might have been easier to have scanned that room. All I knew was her height. A follow-up call was in order, I thought when I glanced down at my hard-on just thinking about her.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This part is always the section I struggle with because I have so many I want to thank for everything but there isn’t enough room to but all the of the people down I’d love to put down. So I want to thank everyone for their contributions all big and small.
To my Beta Ladies, you are extremely amazing ladies. I’m so lucky and honored to have you all as my beta readers. Each of your in puts, advice and thoughts are important. Thank you so much.
Thank you to Amber Vaughn and Ashley Torbeck for making Protective Love easier to read. Your editing skills are amazing and I will continue to refer to you both.
I want to thank all the blogs on my tour for helping support me in my journey. I’m so humbled by the amount that signed up. Definitely an amazing first experience.
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To all my readers, I hope you enjoyed the read and picked up on the message that I intended to get across in this book. Thank you so much for taking the time and giving Protective Love a shot. It truly means a lot to me. Thank you so much from the bottom of my heart. Hugs!
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Author P. J. Belden lives with her husband, three children, and two dogs in Indiana. When she is not writing, she can be found spending time with her family, reading or taking pictures. Author P. J. is rarely seen without pen and paper in hand or her laptop in tow.
Mrs. Belden has been writing stories from a very young age. She put off any professional writing goals to start her family and get settled in her life as a mother and wife. Mrs. Belden lov
es to chat with her readers, so please feel free to contact her at any of the places below.
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